


It's Called Curse-Breaking, Not "Ark-ee-ollo-gee"

by Magpied_Spider



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: F/M, Gen, abuse of the dash punctuation mark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 19:50:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2400818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magpied_Spider/pseuds/Magpied_Spider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eight years after the defeat of Voldemort, discoveries in the Valley of the Kings prompt Gringotts Wizarding Bank to reinstate Bill Weasley as a curse-breaker.</p><p>“Worrisome thing, that," The goblin said. "Just one tomb, no matter what the papers say, but it’s got a lot of cursed artefacts in it. A lot of valuable ones, too, but the closest anyone’s been able to get to finding out the specifics was that Thompson chap, and he, well, you heard.”<br/>“Caught fire?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Called Curse-Breaking, Not "Ark-ee-ollo-gee"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Evandar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evandar/gifts).



Mid-way through breakfast, a Pharaoh Eagle-Owl swooped in through the window of Shell Cottage.

“Whose owl is that?” Victoire asked, through a mouthful of toast.

Bill blinked as the owl dropped the letter on his toast, landed on the newspaper’s broadsheets, and began to nibble at some of the sausage still on the plate.

“Work,” he answered his daughter, breaking the Gringotts’ seal and quickly skimming through the letter.

_Mr Bill Weasley_   
_It has not escaped our notice here at Gringotts Wizarding Bank that your work in London, while still maintaining an admirable standard, was initially transferred to said location in order to assist the fight against the Dark Lord Voldemort in the Second Great Wizarding War. In light of this, and due to recent developments regarding excavations in the Valley of the Kings, we extend to you the offer of a transfer to your previous position in Egypt as Curse-Breaker. Please reply at your earliest convenience either affirmative or negative, in order that the position be filled as quickly as possible._   
_Transport and lodgings will be provided on-site, if you choose to accept the posting._   
_Yours,_   
_Gringotts Wizarding Bank_

A reply envelope was attached.

“Apparently they noticed that the war was over eight years after the fact,” Bill commented.

Fleur shook her head. “I was reading in zee _Prophet_ about a recent discovery in King’s Valley? There are very strong curses, but no one has managed to work out ‘ow to break them.”

Victoire looked up from the comics’ section. “Oh, I heard about that! A wizard tried to break through the barriers and when he got into the tomb, he got set on fire!”

The owl gave a deep “whu” impatiently, and tapped the letter with its beak. Bill smiled at his wife as she read the letter.

She shrugged, smiled, and handed it back to him. “All zat my job has done is allow me to quickly calculate using prime numbers. And it will be good for Victoire to experience cultures other than zee English and French. Why should we not?”

That decided, he summoned a self-inking quill with a quick flick of his wand, and penned the reply,

_To Whom It May Concern:_   
_I would be glad to resume my former position as a Curse-breaker at the Luxor branch of Gringotts, provided suitable accommodation will be provided for my wife and child._   
_Sincerely,_   
_Billius Weasley_

 

It took surprisingly little time to remove the essentials from the cottage, and a shorter time still to rent it to a nice young couple.

As they dropped into the house for a final check they hadn’t left anything, Bill noticed a Class of 2003 photograph one of their tenants must have put up on the mantelpiece.

They would have been in their second year when Voldemort was defeated, Bill thought distantly.

How time flies.

 

They had been instructed in a subsequent letter to go to the London Gringotts branch, where their transport would be waiting, and when they got there, discovered that they were to ride one of the carts all the way to Egypt.

Initially it was very exciting, as all rides on the Gringotts carts were, but after a while, it was just another fairly long journey.

By the time the first hour was over, Victoire had stopped screaming, and Fleur had pulled out one of her novels, and Bill had managed to strike up a conversation with the goblin steering the cart, whose name she had not introduced herself with, and did not seem inclined to bring it up.

The conversation had initially formed around the controversy in exchange rates between muggle and wizarding gold – essentially the Goblin equivalent of discussing the weather – before it moved on to somewhat more serious topics.

“What _are_ these new discoveries in the Valley of the Kings, anyway?”

The goblin shook her head gravely. “Worrisome thing, that. Just the one tomb, no matter what the papers say, but it’s got a lot of cursed artefacts in it. A lot of valuable ones, too, but the closest anyone’s been able to get to finding out the specifics was that Thompson chap, and he, well, you heard.”

“Caught fire?”

The goblin laughed. “Had his eyes burned right out of his skull, and that was before his skin started melting off him. Ugh,” She shuddered, “Not the most pleasant sight I’ve ever seen. But,” she brightened, “We’ve got a number of curse-breakers working on it, so hopefully… well, it’s unlikely for them _all_ to die before some progress is made.”

 _Good to know_ , Bill thought, before turning the conversation towards slightly less morbid matters.

 

In the few days that it took them to settle into Egypt, work through all the shortcomings inherent in the translation charms – “When that Granger witch is going to update these, I don’t know, but all I can say is I hope it’s soon,” one of the Linguistics Officials complained – the only progress that had been made on the tomb was that two more people had fallen victim to its curse.

“-Convulsing on the floor,” Bill heard, as he walked past a group of gossiping workers that were meant to be renewing the muggle–repellers, “One of them was just sort of lying there while the other burned alive.”

He reached the area that had been cleared outside the tomb, where he met with a number of other wizards.

“Bill Weasley,” he introduced himself. “What’ve you got so far?”

“Ah, yes, they said you were coming,” a portly Egyptian wizard greeted him, opening a clipboard and marking off something from his list. “It’s the strangest thing we’ve ever come across, almost like a different form of magic altogether.”

Bill took out his wand and began running a few diagnostic spells as the man continued to explain. “We can sense that there is magic down there, but that’s it.” He made a gesture with his hands that Bill didn’t see, and continued, “We can’t tell what sorts of spells there are, how old they are – the only reason we know they’re even _curses_ is because one, it’s magic in an Ancient Egyptian tomb, what else would it be, and two, those three curse-breakers who all ended up very extremely dead.”

Bill nodded, his earring bouncing with the movement. “Three dead wizards _does_ suggest a strong curse. Now, have you tried –“

 

Bill slumped down at the dinner table of the apartment – well, broom cupboard fitted with an undetectable extension charm that made it the size of an apartment - the bank had provided him with and groaned.

Fleur patted him on the back as she passed carrying two plates full of food, Victoire following behind carrying her own.

They sat at the table with him.

“Well,” Bill sighed, “There’s been a grand total of no progress. It’s a different kind of magic to our own, and that’s all we’ve got. Not house-elf magic, either,” he added. “Something really different.”

He blinked, as if he’d stumbled on a brilliant idea. “Fleur, those Veela-powers of your grandmother… did she ever teach you anything?”

Fleur blew a hair out of her face and laughed. “Not unless zee curse in the tomb is to entice men to their deaths with pretty faces before clawing their eyes out with fire.”

“That’s… pretty close to what’s been happening, if you replace ‘pretty face’ with ‘shiny gold’. And skip the claws, so you only have the fire.”

“Rawr!” Victoire, at her corner of the table, made clawing motions with her hands, the tips of the fingers becoming talon-like.

“Not at the table, mon petit chou,” Fleur said, spelling the tablecloth to repair where it had become lightly singed, “Claws are for _outside_ and only when little boys are mean to you.” She turned back to Bill. “Unless there were Veela in ancient Egypt, which all historical records and family storytelling says there weren’t, my wonderful powers of seduction and short-distance flight are of little use here.”

“It was worth a try.”

 

Three days later, and all Bill had to show for his hard work – which had consisted of not only attempting but _reinventing_ several curse-identifying spells – was a sunburn on the back of his neck where his hair didn’t cover it and a new selection of freckles.

After ducking into the refreshment tent in order to acquire some water, he re-emerged to find a stranger speaking rapidly to the Portly Egyptian – he really needed make sure people introduced themselves to him before it became too awkward to ask – who seemed confused and slightly angry about the setup.

“Now, now,” the Portly Egyptian was asking the stranger, “I can’t find your name anywhere on the list here.”

“Forget the list,” the man was saying, “What’s going on? Why am I only hearing about people dying because they’re trying to get into a cursed tomb _now_?”

Bill walked closer.

“Look, sir, you’re not on the list, so I’m going to have to ask for your credentials before I can let you get any closer –“

“I’ve been guarding tombs most of my life, you _jackass_ , so if no one will explain to me what the hell is going on and why there are a bunch of people who I’ve never seen before in my life and looked confused when I said the word ‘archaeology’ digging up a _cursed tomb_ , I’m going to get very mad, very quickly, and possibly -”

Bill touched the man on the shoulder. “Hey,”

The stranger's blond hair whirled as he spun around, snarling slightly.

“Would you like to sit down?”

 

The man – Malik Ishtar, he’d introduced himself as, and Bill mentally filed that information away as carefully as he could so that he wouldn’t start referring to him as ‘the blond Egyptian’ and forget the name completely – was a puzzle.

He wasn’t (couldn’t be) a muggle – the muggle-repelling charms around the entire site were enough to confirm that fact- and he seemed perfectly aware of magic and the potential danger inherent in curses, cursed items, and magically-guarded tombs, but likewise seemed incredibly confused, if not downright suspicious, of the existence of wizards.

“So you… channel magic… through a sharp, wooden implement.” He seemed a little sceptical. “That… doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

Once they got to discussing the tomb and Malik’s own reasons for investigating it, however, he seemed much more at ease. “There’s a small number of statues and amulets I suspect are contained within it that could be right at home in the Museum,” Malik explained.

“The Museum?”

Malik then went on to further clarify that he worked in the muggle world – although he didn’t use the word – tracking down artefacts, translating various texts, and occasionally making coffee. “What _are_ you ‘wizards’ doing here, anyway? It’s obviously not for archaeological interest, given that it’s a bank funding the trip.”

Bill shrugged. “It’s mainly to make sure any cursed artefacts are taken away before muggles can get their hands on them.” He frowned, surprised he’d never wondered before. “What do muggles even _do_ with Ancient Egyptian artefacts?”

“Oh, you’d be surprised how much history can be unearthed from a dig.” Malik then went on to explain that, through the discovery of a single pot a few years ago, not only was the identity of an ancient Pharaoh confirmed, but a number of the cultural practices around the time were revealed, particular in regards to gaming. “They’d probably be able to accurately date the artefacts in this tomb as well. Something to do with radiation decay, I don’t pretend to understand it, but they can guess what time period something’s from very accurately. It’ll be interesting to see what they find from this tomb.”

“You seem… very confident that you’ll get through the traps.”

At this, he had looked surprised. “Why wouldn’t I be able to?”

True to his implication, Malik had walked up to the door not five minutes - after Bill had promised that he would do everything in his power to ensure that only magical artefacts were removed, and that everything else was not touched with human hands - and opened it without bursting into flame.

Keeping one of the improved diagnostic spells running, Bill could sense the dissipation of the curses as Malik walked further into the tomb, but couldn’t for the life of him identify _how_ they were being made to dissipate.

Malik tapped one of the statues, and set a small card on top of it. “Alright,” he said, “That should be most of it. I mean, it’s a pretty quick fix, the cards, but I can use a more permanent method later. It’ll be fine as long as no one touches them.”

The rest of the day was spent examining the individual items for curses, hexes, and other magical add-ons that could potentially confuse or fatally incapacitate muggles, as Malik explored some of the chambers, properly de-cursed them, and systematically removed the cards he had initially placed on the statues.

The remainder of the excavation would take a few more days, including packing and transport of the items, and by that time, one of the supervisors had assured Malik, the muggle-repelling charms would have grown weak enough that the Muggle “ark-ee-ollo-justs” would be able to dig to their hearts’ content.

Malik had thought this fair, but insisted that he supervise the remainder of the removals. “You _smashed_ one of those pots _even though you have levitation abilities_ ,” he said, “I’m not trusting you without supervision.”

 

“Would you like to come to our apartment for dinner?” Bill asked, spur of the moment, when things had quietened down and most of the employees had disapparated home. “I feel like there’s differences in the types of magic we use and that we should really get those differences sorted out before another tomb gets discovered and it… I don’t know, unleashes a plague of locusts before we can find out what to do about it.”

They apparated – well, Bill apparated Malik along with him – to the apartment complex where the broom cupboard that Gringotts had fitted out with undetectable extension charms was located.

Bill waited for the motion sickness to subside.

“Ugh,” Malik said finally, “You travel like that _deliberately_?”

“Side-along’s always worse,” Bill answered, and unlocked the door. “Welcome to our apartment.”

Something that smelled slightly like falafel and mostly like burning wafted through the air.

Bill waited for a moment, then prompted, “It’s bigger on the inside.”

Malik looked around, before replying, “No, I’m pretty sure the outside’s much bigger. I mean, have you _looked_ through a telescope? Cool extension, though.”

Given the state of Fleur’s falafel attempts, they ended up with takeaway on the table.

“Victoire is at one of the neighbours’ houses,” Fleur explained, as they helped themselves, “There is a young girl there who has a similar affinity with fire, and I felt it would be good for them to socialise.” She tapped the kettle with her wand, and offered him some tea.

“Which wizarding school did you attend?” It was usually a good conversation-starter, as it led to all sorts of possible branches: different systems of examination, politics influencing curriculums that vary from country to country-

“I didn’t.”

There was a moment of silence.

“I mean, there wasn’t… formal education, as such. It ran in the family. You know, guarding a whole heap of dangerous magical items, we didn’t have much time for-“

“Dangerous magical items?” Fleur seemed intrigued.

“Funny you should ask.” Malik settled in to tell the tale as Bill reached over his plate to grab some vegetables, “They’re the main reason I was surprised to see your people wielding magic through sharp-looking implements…”


End file.
